


City Boss

by strawberriesandtophats



Category: Discworld - Terry Pratchett
Genre: Adora Belle for Patrician 2017, Control, Gen, Power Dynamics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-09
Updated: 2017-06-09
Packaged: 2018-11-12 05:48:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11155515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/strawberriesandtophats/pseuds/strawberriesandtophats
Summary: Patricians didn’t rule because power was in their bones.





	City Boss

Patricians didn’t rule because power was in their bones. They had not been handed a crown, told they had special blood running through their veins. They had not been told they were better, higher, nobler than the common man.

No.

They had power because they made others believe that they had it. They spun words into promises and then into action for the betterment of the city. But power is nothing at all, anyway. Just a ruse, a lie. 

She’d seen what happened when the desire for power took hold of men’s hearts, how they stopped at nothing to get more of it. Even if it meant stepping on other people, crushing their lives into the dust. Done so casually that they barely noticed anymore, not even dusting their boots before the next party.

No.

Patricians were the ones in control. People wanted someone in charge, someone who made sure that the next day would come. Who would keep the city safe, away from men and women who only thought of their own arses, their own greed, their own longings and desires. They didn’t care about the city.

To control a city, to really control it. You had to be a rock. You could not be swayed by those who offered you gold and diamonds and everything they could think of it you’d give them a leg up. You’d make treaties, sure. And decisions and weave intricate webs of relationships and responsibilities and employ trustworthy staff. 

Oh yes.

In a hurricane, you have to plant your feet. You need to know precisely who you are in a wold that is always leaping towards the future.

You’d always been most comfortable in black. The heels helped, so did the volume of the sleeves and the long skirt.

Adora Belle Dearheart took her seat as the new Patrician and smiled, face half-hidden in cigarette smoke.


End file.
